


The Day I Met You

by Austrian



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, M/M, POV First Person, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:18:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3069554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Austrian/pseuds/Austrian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I met you in Madrid and this is my story, telling how I feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day I Met You

Querido Antonio,

do you remember how we met? I was just turning 21 when I made my first trip to Spain, to Madrid, to be more specific. It was a birthday gift from my parents and I demanded to go alone so that I could see what I wished, when I wished. I had bigger thoughts of myself than what I really was capable of doing. It was already the first day when I got so horribly lost that I ended up only sitting on a bench, my luggages next to me, the map crumbled in my hands as I got so frustrated. I remember being so close to calling my mother and asking for help, but it wasn’t that she could have helped me either. But, you saved me. You must have seen my frustration as you came up to me, asking if I needed help. You automatically used English, having that cute accent of yours. I was so shocked to get someone to talk to me so that when I tried to say something, it was just a pathetic attempt to produce understandable English.

You actually sat down next to me and so we talked for a bit. You had some free time and promised to show me around. I got to know that you were two years older than me, got to know about your dreams for the future, to start your own business. It fascinated me as I had no plans for my future, only studying violin and composition in my own country. Would I be a violinist, music teacher, composer, what? But you had plans, dreams, the glow in your eyes as you talked. And so you talked, leaving me feel like I had nothing interesting to say. You fascinated me. You showed me the city, the best parts of it, the places that aren’t found in the tourist guide. It only lasted for three days, the happiness, the first memory that I did not want to forget. You even took me to the airport, hugged me, and when I went through the security, I was sure I saw genuine sadness in your eyes. You never turned around, you only looked at me while I walked forward. How long did you stay there, staring at the crowd where I was?

I returned home, the smile so wide on my face that even my parents were questioning it. I returned to my normal life, slowly that smile disappearing from my face. I suddenly got so busy that my luggage was unpacked in my room for weeks, but when I finally had the energy to fully unpack it, I was faced with a surprise. You had slipped a note in my luggage, your name, email address and phone number in it. It took me yet another week to contact you, to send you an email as I was too frugal to call you. That is how long I had to find the courage in me. You had lost the hope that I could ever contact you, but you did not tell it then, you told it to me two years later. You were still that bubbly persona in those emails, stating how much fun you had with me, how your life is going, hoping that everything in my end was good, too. 

The amount of emails exchanged slowly built up from one message per every couple of days to couple of messages within one day. The length of the emails varied, sometimes being only those couple of sentences long good night wishes, sometimes being those novella length inspiring conversations, opinions, passion. You stole my heart, but I did not realize it. I started going out less and less, started meeting friends less and less as I was waiting for your answer. And even when I met friends, was in university, working, I was always in my own thought, thinking about that one young Spanish man - you. At some point, I found the courage to call you. They were such short calls, but I craved to hear your voice, those soft words spoken to my ear. 

Days changed to weeks, weeks changed to months, and finally I met you again. It was your turn to come to Vienna. You came there and so it was my turn to show where I grew up. I had the date marked in my calendar as soon as I got to know it. I was too early at the airport, waiting for you. I tried to have a cup of coffee, but I was so excited to see you again that I only left the cup there, half full. Then I went to wait for you in the crowd, worrying that I would not find you. That worry was not necessary as you appeared to my vision, the green eyes of yours searching for me as much as I was searching for you. I felt like I would have known you for years already, even when it in reality was just a half a year or so. 

Neither of us knew what the other thought, how both of us just craved the other, wanted to be more affectionate. I remember us going to one of those traditional coffee houses and we sat in the corner table, side by side. We were talking about music and sooner than I realized, you had placed a small kiss on my cheek. You should be lucky that I did not drop my cup of coffee at that moment. I remember feeling that embarrassment, the heat on my face, the shy eyes turned away. For a moment I remember just sitting there, completely frozen. You were already apologizing, saying how you should have not done that. I put my cup down and slowly tilted my head to see you. I saw fear on your face, but soon you were reflecting the smile that I had. I remember cupping your face to my hands, kissing you quickly yet with passion. 

That started our relationship, or, the relationship that both of us could understand. The awkwardness over the wrong word choices disappeared as one was able to compliment the other’s appearance without coming off as a creeper. And how I liked your compliments - you complimented my appearance, saying how good I looked, you complimented my skills with music. I tried to give compliments back, but next to you, I felt like my compliments were only a pathetic attempt to make you feel loved. But, you never said a bad word about that. You appreciated me the way I am, a bit more awkward and silent. 

Do you remember how we were always so excited to see each other, even when it only happened couple of times a year? I was at the end of my studies and I still did not know what to do with my life. You had already started your business and opened a flower stop in a smaller city south from Madrid. You lived alone yet that store was tying you to that city. I, on the other hand, had nothing to keep in Vienna. So we started to plan to move together, or, should I say, that I would move in with you, in that small apartment of yours. It happened when I was 24 and from there started the happiest time of my life. I was baking a lot and you always complimented the cakes and desserts. You helped me get a job - you found me a place to be apprentice for a luthier, to study how to make those precious instruments that I so enjoyed playing. The everyday life started to seem normal in matter of months. We had our little fights, dates, love, passion. 

One day, I thought you were taking me to a date to Madrid but you had something else in mind. You were overly bubbly that day, the smile being wider than ever on your face. You seemed a bit nervous, too. We drove to the city and continued on by foot. You took me back to that very same bench we met the first time. It was covered in candles and rose petals. You knelt down. You asked if I want to marry you, in German. I was so shocked that I cried, both because of that question but also because it was the first time hearing you saying anything in my language. I said yes. There was no hesitation in my mind as you slipped the ring on my finger. 

You had learnt German secretly. You still had mistakes but I was pleased to just hear you try, for you to be happy. You tried to make me learn Spanish too, but I took my time with it, having too many insecurities in my head to learn it immediately. You were patient with me, going through the same stuff again and again, saying positive words so often that I sometimes felt awkward. 

Do you remember our wedding? You wanted to wear a tuxedo, I wanted a reminder of my home. We decided the colour scheme to be white and silver, you wearing a rather normal yet well fitted black tuxedo, silver and white being the accents. You said I would look great in white, you said we could afford a custom made outfit for me - a resemble of my home country’s national clothing, just in white with silver accents. Do you remember how your family was there, so happy and proud of you? You had all your family there, the aunts, uncles, cousins, people who I did not even understand how they were related to you. We had friends, too, but most of my family was missing. I was not appreciated as a gay man and so only my sister and aunt were there with their families. But, just your presence made me forget the lack of my family. Your presence made me happy.

Our honeymoon was a trip to Tyrol, to my country to relieve my home sickness. We did not care of big and overly expensive honeymoons with all the luxuries. We cared only to be with each other, to relax, to be ourselves and away from the everyday life. While we were on a walk, just appreciating the beautiful scenery, I remember how you called me ‚luz de mis ojos,‘ indicating that I was the light of your eyes. I call it the perfect landing to the married life. I was slowly getting grasp of the luthier’s work and so I started to get more salary. Your business was literally blooming. We continued dating ever since, knowing that marriage is not a destination, it is a journey. 

I was 27 when you wanted to sit down for a serious conversation. I had no idea what it was, I could not think. I could not think that you would want a divorce. I thought that maybe a relative of yours had died, or that you cheated on me. That last option made me shaky, fearful. You saw the fear on my face and so you took a step towards me, raising your hands, hugging me tightly as you buried your face against the crook of my neck. ‚It is nothing bad,‘ you said. When you got me back to the normal mindset, you said it. You said you would want to adopt a child. I was not completely against the idea, but for me it was too sudden idea, like a surprise around the corner. I did not turn the idea down, but you had a lot of convincing to do. Slowly, I warmed up for the idea. 

I was 29, you 31 when we came home with two Italians. They had barely had their first birthdays. Do you remember how we got to be the parents from the almost beginning? To hear them say the first words, to see them walk, to see them draw the first masterpieces? We relied a bit on your family, every once in a while needed assistance so that we could keep our marriage healthy. Your mother was a great babysitter and she seemed to enjoy that so much. 

Do you remember how it was almost clear which of our children preferred which parent? How Lovino was clinging to you when Feliciano was pulling my pants to ask for more sweets. How Feliciano wanted to help me in the kitchen when I baked, how you sometimes took Lovino to your store. Do you remember that time when I broke my ankle and had to be hospitalized? When I woke up after the surgery, you were there, the dried tears on your cheeks. I was not going to die, yet you were still worried. I liked that, it showed how much you loved me. Then, when I was able to go home, you came there with our boys. They had made so sweet cards for me, and how you attempted to bake with them. It was a sweet attempt even when the pie was a bit burnt - I ate it anyway. 

We had been married for ten years and it was my turn to surprise you. I composed a piece for you, I rented the whole concert hall, just for you and I. I performed the piece for you with the violin I made myself. I was wearing the same outfit as during our wedding. You shed tears, that much my attempt affected you. 

I am now 40 years old, celebrating our 15-year anniversary alone. Do you remember how I said that I am scared of water, how one should take the seas seriously. You assured that you are fine, every time you did so, but I was always scared. My fear was to be fulfilled. It was one of those normal sailing trips of yours, yet you never returned. The crew said the storm surprised you all and so you tried to be the hero, to get the sails smaller so that you could have better control of the boat. So you did, but that heroic act of yours ended up being the last one you did. I can just imagine how the water hugged you, swallowed you, drowned you. You were never found. 

I have been alone now for four years. First year I could not work, could not sleep, could not look after our children. I had to rely on your family so much and so they looked after them. They were eight years old at that time, having no understanding about the situation. I could not tell them, I could not even tell your clients why your store was closed. The second year I picked up my violin again and started visiting our children more regularly who by then lived with your family. I had troubles as I still was uncertain of my Spanish knowledge, but luckily Feliciano and Lovino helped me through, translating the difficult words. By then I finally agreed to go to therapy and so I was diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder. It was the combination of losing you, being still in this somewhat new country and so suddenly having to look after our boys alone. 

Now I am feeling a bit better, but I am nowhere near recovery. I still should eat more, sleep more, work more, be with our children more. I still can not fully enjoy the things we used to do together. But, now I have a reason to live and so if I can not live for myself, I shall live for Feliciano and Lovino. My heart still beats for you and I still wait for the day when I can see you again. 

Te amo mi querido angel,

Roderich Edelstein

**Author's Note:**

> Translation:  
> Querido Antonio = Dear Antonio  
> Te amo mi querido angel = I love you, my dear angel


End file.
